


Its You- Its Always Been You John Watson

by sherlockgreywhosessed



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comfort/Angst, Concern, Drinking to Cope, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Post-His Last Vow, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-17 03:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2294414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockgreywhosessed/pseuds/sherlockgreywhosessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beginning few chapters are what *I* have imagined for the characters to feel (WHICH  I DO NOT OWN) and say, woven in with canon scenes. The actual meat of the story after the background chapters is *all me* and what I think think the characters are feeling/thinking/ etc.<br/>This is how I would love for background episodes to reveal and for post Season 3 to begin I suppose.<br/>hasnt been proofed so be gentle!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1-

**Author's Note:**

> Just my thoughts on how my *perfect* Johnlock would play out sort of :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning at the tarmac in HLV

  
When the plane touched back down on the tarmac after Sherlocks' mini-banishment, everyone had mixed emotions. Mycroft had just practically exiled his brother for the murder of CAM on an assignment that most likely would have ended in death. Now he needed his little brother's services again for the sake of England, tho personal reasons also could have been part of it.

Sherlock and John had their last, if a bit awkward farewell that left much to be desired. While John kept a brave face on while he felt like a hole was being ripped thru him,Sherlock, for the first time since his return, let real tears flow once on the airplane. He wanted to hold John. To kiss him. To tell him that he loved him and whatever way he could stay in his life his vow to keep him and the baby safe hadn't changed. That the two of them together would figure out the enigma that is Mary. John knew he didn't totally trust the woman carrying his child. But he is a good man who keeps his word and takes care of his obligations, i.e. the baby. Mary thought Sherlock was gone for good. Her shot didn't kill him, but killing CAM 'on her behalf' all but ensured Sherlock was out of their lives and they could move on, become somewhat of a family in time.

But when the plane landed  
just minutes after take-off everyone's chests clinched in anticipation and anxiety, each for their own reasons. Sherlock took a deep breath and patted his hot face with a cool towel before exiting the airplane. Mycroft was still in his official vehicle and hurried him inside.

  
With a quick glance to the right Sherlock glanced in John's direction. He tried to fight it but that was impossible. Mary was already in the car. The men gave eachother a knowing nod.


	2. chapter 2

The next few weeks consumed all of Sherlock's time. Verifying if in fact Moriarty was alive or being used as a cover for another Master criminal.

John did not know how to process the detective's return. Mary had a few more months to go and as a doctor John knew that stress would be harmful to their baby. He tried to limit his Sherlock talk or anything to do with her past and who she really was.

Sherlock busied himself (or tried to) with the situation of Moriarty and the possible return. However, it became harder and harder to focus. This, of course, annoyed him to no end.

From the first sight of John, he had 'read' him like everyone else. He knew he was recently back from military service, had a bad relationship with his family *and* that he was bisexual. It was clear that John knew the affect he had on women, but what Sherlock immediately deduced was that John was attracted to Sherlock. Probably more to his mind and how it worked, at the onset. But Sherlock also read from John's body language toward him, his eye movements, his breathing when he was near him, his jealousy over matters not concerning him, his overprotectivness, that he seemed to be having the same effect on John that he had on most women he came into contact with.

Sherlock was not well versed in 'relationships' altho over the course of time he had begun to think that he and John were 'in' one- they had all the markings of it per all the internet quizzes and articles Sherlock secretly read on the subject.That's why he was so speechless when John asked him to be his Best Man and that he was his 'best friend'. Sherlock thought he had been 'friendzoned' as the internet also seemed to say. To him- since the night of the pool encounter with Moriarty that they had moved to more than just friends. John had already killed someone to protect Sherlock and at the pool after Sherlock ripped the semtex from John's body, he breathlessly thanked John for what he had tried to do. Grabbing Moriarty in an attempt to save Sherlock and possibly kill himself in the process both terrified and turned something in Sherlock 'on'. Then they wordlessly, only with eye contact and a nod of the head were going to blow themselves up if it came to it before Moriarty took his leave.No one had ever put themselves on the line like that for Sherlock.

Yes as he was significantly more intellectual than most of the population, he never had a real confidant. His brother might have been protective or helpful to his little brother, but he wasn't a 'friend'. And here comes John. This soldier who not only stands to live with him, day in and day out, he listens. Cares.Isn't afraid to call Sherlock out when he is being unkind or ridiculous. Unwavering, even when he may not truly understand him  
or a situation.

So in reality- all of that, all that John was and the way they continued to be truthful and forgiving even in the face of everything they had been thru so far- was THE most intimate he had ever been with another person. He did allow himself to accept his sexual attraction toward John, but John wasn't quite ready he thought. Not with the way he had been going thru girlfriends so fast just to deny the male attraction he had for Sherlock. He had something to prove and one day Sherlock hoped he would end the struggle and just go with what was written all over himself for Sherlock to see.

And Sherlock had tried to show his 'love' for John by 'dying' for him at the fall. But the whole time he was away from his beloved London, away from his violin, away from his specimens and away from HIS John Watson- he realized that it wasn't 'the work' he wanted to be married to. Yes, he loved being a genius and hearing John praise him for it- but he really to his soul that had been dormant for so long- wanted John. Needed him. Craved him.


	3. chapter 3

Thoughts of John became all encompassing. When Sherlock had 'returned from the dead' he had every intention to right things with him.

He wanted to tell all to John and then fall into his arms. Instead, Sherlock was met with a very hostile John. John felt he had been punched in the gut, slapped in the face and kicked up the arse all at the same time. He resented Sherlock for all the heartache, all the sleepless nights, the drinking and all the suicidal thoughts. And most of all for Sherlock not trusting him. He would have followed Sherlock to the ends of the earth if he had only asked. Now John was in deep with Mary and since she liked Sherlock, as well as gave his life some of the 'normalcy' he felt had been lacking, he didn't see any reason to give her up. Or not to have both of them in his life.

Sherlock put forth 150% effort into helping with the wedding. John was the one not very interested. They worked together on cases again like the old days. Instead of inviting other friends or acquiaintences of Johns, it was just the two of them on the Stag Night. It let them see eachother in a different light. Carefree.Laughing. There was even slight touching back at Baker St. that had been the closest they have ever come to physical intimacy.

At the wedding Sherlock donned his armour- the tuxedo- and played the part of the Best Man. In the church as the couple said their vows, Sherlock felt a twinge of pain in his heart of hearts. Then it turned into a persistant, dull aching. HE wanted to be up there, in front of God and everyone, saying how much he loved John Watson. Especially because he had already written his Best Man speech. He was already nervous, and now he still had to say the written words and make the vows he promised himself he would. He didnt expect to feel the way he did. The Left behind. Unchosen one.

John had chosen Mary. Sherlock could read that John was doing his best to push down any remaining feelings he had for Sherlock aside from 'best friend'. Sherlock revealed at the reception to John and Mary that they were pregnant. In a corner of his mind a picture appeared of Sherlock and John happy and holding a baby. Their baby. But John chose Mary and that was that.

Except when the shooting happened. Making Mary a dangerous pendulum swinging between Sherlock and John. But John saw the baby as a chance at a new life. However John did miss how he felt when he was with Sherlock- like his whole body had been set alight from all the excitement and thrilling cases. He liked who he was when he was with Sherlock and Sherlock did, too. 

But Mary seemed to be the answer to John's prayers for a normal hetero existence... 


	4. chapter 4

Oh how things changed when Sherlock got back off of that jet for John.

He was having trouble eating and sleeping. It was exhausting playing 'happy family' with Mary after all she had done, all that she put John thru and Sherlock thru by shooting him. In about her 8th month she started getting bad pre-labor pains. It turned out the baby would need life savng surgery once she was born to correct a congenital heart defect. Even with medical help the baby came early. The doctors asked for John and Mary, and any other friends or relatives that were a match, to donate blood for if their little baby needed a transfusion during her operation. Mary was a match and donated. However John was not.

Even tho Myroft probably ordered a DNA test, John in his disbelief, did further testing which revealed that he was unable to have children at all.Two weeks later the baby passed way.

Sherlock tried to be their for John. He invited him with open arms back to 221 B Baker St. because he said he needed space to understand what happened and to grieve. He couldnt do that living with Mary. Six or seven months later he told Sherlock he would be filing for divorce.

Mycroft had seen to it that Mary had some support and they even tried therapy. But that lasted one time because after piling on the facts that she tried to kill Sherlock, that he hardly knew anything about the real 'Mary' and that the baby he waited for and loved and put so many hopes and dreams in wasnt even HIS- there wasnt anywhere for therapy to go.

Sherlock couldnt help but feel pity for John. He hardly ever came downstairs anymore. He turned down offers to go along on cases. He was drinking more and eating less. The day the divorce was finalized Sherlock carefully and as gingerly as he could, tried to get John to face himself and to get himself better. He was a damned doctor and knew he was killing himself. And it was killing Sherlock too. Until the detective finally decided to do something about it.


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is slowly killing himself with too much alcohol and not enough food. That in turn is killing Sherlock. This is Sherlock's first attempt at talking to John, now that the divorce has gone thru. Doesn't quite go according to plan...

"John, um. Listen... there are things that happen in people's lives that are so bad they feel they may never recover... I want to help you John but you have to want me to, to help you help yourself. As much as I want to I can't force you to come out of this self-made trench you have dug for yourself and been hiding in".

Sherlock was sitting across from John at the table, having tea as they usually would have done and he thought John would be calm enough to hear him. Sherlock also was impeccably dressed as usual while John hadn't shaved in days, his hair could use a trim and his clothes had been the same ones he has favored for 4 days straight now.

John sat listening to the whole speech. Arms folded across his chest which Sherlock immediately read as 'not wanting to listen/barrier is up' but he went on ahead. It had been awhile since so many words had been spoken between them. John took a deep breath in.

"Sherlock, forgive me- but who the HELL are you to tell ME what I need? How Im feeling? Do you have ANY IDEA as to how my life has been since you came back from your 'death vacation' or whatever the fuck it was since you never told me?!?!

"Of course I do, John. I've witnessed it every step of the way. The tragedies you have endured have been most foul..."

"Most 'foul'?? Do you even hear yourself? My wife tried to kill you to cover up her dirty past; You killed CAM; and I thought you were gone, again, for forever! My, my,, (John had to stop to get tissues for his eyes and nose) well not 'my child' was born ill and died ; then I find out not only that she wasn't mine but that I cant have children EVER! Its so, its just to permanent. And the divorce, even tho I knew that would be the ending since the start was just...".

John's face was flush now, and tears had started rolling down his face, despite his efforts otherwise. Then he cupped his face in his hands, slightly relieved but also slightly embarassed to be unloading so much on Sherlock because no telling what he was deducing now and he was sure an inappropriate response was coming.

"Don't hide from me John, please".

And as the words quietly left Sherlock's mouth he had walked around the table to John and placed his large hand one of John's shoulders. The touch was warm and lingered a little too long tho neither protested.

"I want to help you pick up the pieces and help to make you whole again. John I-"

"Thanks mate for the talk but I need to be alone and I uh... wont be down for dinner".

The doctor was blushing after Sherlock slid his had from his shirt.

He was about to tell him he loves him!And he was completely cut off. Was what he said 'not good'??This getting involved stuff was damned well complicated as Mycroft was always happy to point out, which is why he stayed so closed to everyone around him.

Mycroft text Sherlock the next day, asking urgently if he had made any head way with the latest terrorist threat on London.

Sherlock wasn't about to admit he had been more concerned about John Watson than anything else. He needed to clear his mind- get all of it out there.

His 'mind palace' was full of John. Memories made and new memories he wanted them to make together.

He had to say it out loud so that he wasn't stuck in this 'John fog' forever...


	6. chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guided meditation reveals more than John was ready for

A week after Sherlock's attempt to get John to open up- he decided on a new tactic.

He asked John after breakfast that morning to lie down on the couch and relax. As Sherlock played his violin he told John that he was going to help him find himself, become whole again.

"And how in the Hell are you planning to do this Sherlock- and why do you bloody care so much? Isn't there something else you can bide your time with?"

John laid down on the couch anyway, he put a pillow under his head and another under his knee which had recently begun acting up. Once he found the right spot, he took a deep breath and glanced over to his flatmate.

So what if he thought Sherlock was good looking? Hell, everyone in London would have said the same.John liked him best like this- standing near the window. Light streaming in and illuminating his chiseled face, his curly hair that just made you want to both touch gingerly and grab hard at the same time. His silk robe had rolled down his arm, and the exposed skin couldnt have been more beautiful than any other sculpture out there. Michaelangelo would have wept at his stature, bone structure and pale perfect skin.

His robe he wore this morning is the one that has been worn more than all the others, so it drapes more against the curve of his back and his expertly pert ass. Underneath the robe he wore a short sleeved shirt that John had once wanted to throw out or give to charity when he first moved in. Sherlock had no reaction to him doing this,but John knew that night after he went to bed that Sherlock must have gone thru the pile and picked that one out. It's like he thinks wearing it inside-out will fool him but, John knew.

He secretly always thought that was such an intimate thing to do- to want to be so near a person that their clothes would have to do.

Once when Sherlock was away on a case and John couldn't be away from the surgery- he went thru his closet and drawers and took a pair of Sherlock's socks. His shirts were all tailored, he almost never wore sweaters so those were a no-go. He wears the socks mainly to bed- imagining their warmth as coming from a nice foot massage from Sherlock. The thought of his touch sends signals to places John tries to make his body resist.John chuckles to himself at the thought of Sherlock trying to 'dress down' or comfortable and this is what he comes up with. He really found it endearing. And he really really was now starting to have feelings about Sherlock that he has been trying to drown from almost day one. He wasn't sure of the exact day and time that he began to love Sherlock.

Seemed like it was a light trickle that turned into a babbling brook that turned into a waterfall and then after 'the fall' deception it had almost turned into a mist or a fog- always surrounding him and gave him want for shelter from it. Now, tho, after all this, he can feel it as a river,some turbulent areas to be watchfu of and there may be some paths to negotiate... but John knew there was an ocean of love that all this would eventually lead to. He just wasn't ready, wasn't sure if Sherlock was ready and what they had together was already golden.

"John- I've been calling your name now for 5 minutes. You were the most lost in thought Ive ever seen you. Now, stop being a baby. This is completely painless and if I do it wrong, at least you will get a good nap. So, let's begin."

"Follow the sound of my voice"... John thought to himself 'what in the fucking hell else would I hear besides his deep, seductive, sexy voice. Shit! Focus John!'

"John, imagine your body is totally relaxed. Your hair.Your face. Then your neck and shoulders. Feel a warmth melting away any tension. Now the warmth is relaxing your chest, now your stomach muscles, down your thighs, your calves, your ankles and finally your feet and toes. Now your body is totally relaxed.Breathing is at a good pace. Now that you are relaxed,I want you to find your 'mind palace', or whatever safe place you have in your mind.

This is where important feelings and memories are kept.

As you enter door I want you to open the first door you see".

"This mind place looks exactly like 221 B, our apartment" John says while staying relaxed and focused.The first door he sees and opens has Mary there, in her wedding gown. She is watching a movie of her shooting Sherlock and another was playing the domestic the 3 of them had before Sherlock almost died again and had to be taken away by abulance. Sherlock's 'fall' was on another one.John's pulse quickened and his fists clenched.

"Now John- whatever is in that room is over- it represents things that have happened in the past that you need to let go of. They are draining you. They are part of your past, not the present. Imagine now you have keys in your pocket and that you can lock the door. Close it and lock it. Those memories can't influence you anymore. Now, go to the next door and open it".

In this room John hitches his breath. He sees the baby in an incubator. The doctor who told him the baby wasn't his, is also in here. The doctor who told him he cannot have children is also in the room.He hears crying and turns around. Its the cemetary and he sees the tiny coffin getting lowered into the ground. She may not have have been his truly, but he loved that baby from the wedding night when they found out until, well, now if he was honest. Tears begin to stream from his closed eyes. 

Sherlock can guess what John's found.

" Now John, listen. This room is not healthy for you to stay in. Let your heart say its peace to what is inside the room, and again as you leave the room lock the door. What is in that room does not define your future but with help it can become a part of your path that you can work thru. Concentrate on your breathing now, taking deep breaths. 

Now, I want YOU to choose which door to open. Inside that room is what will make you whole again.It is your missing piece. When you walk inside describe what you see John". 

In a very calm voice John says " I see our living room. Our apartment. On the telly there is a video of us- from the beginning ...when we met." 

Sherlock could see that John was breathing heavier now, his chest rising and falling.

"Good John, thats good. Its a good place to start. Obviously you really see this place as your home", Sherlock said with a smile.

"Wait- h- hold on a minute. There is a light coming from under your bedroom door. I mean bright! I'm walking over to the door to open it but I cant. I need the key". 

"John, imagine in your other pocket that you have the key and use it to open the door". 

Sherlock was just as curious as to what John's subconscious mind had in store for them just as much as John. 

"Tell me what you see John". 

"Oh, God I see... I see..." 

And with that he was on his feet. "Thank you Sherlock for that, um, exercise. Really helpful. I, uh, need to go for a walk". 

Sherlock was genuiely puzzled.


	7. chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally comes home- and the flood gates are opened leaving both speechless by the end. But is this all there is in store for the men? What comes after the flood?

Who or what did John find behind Sherlock's door?

If it is supposed to be located in the safe place of his 'mind place'- then it should have been positive! But why is he running away?

Sherlock ate a a few bites of dinner leftover from a few days ago on his own. He actually went to bed early. He was worn out from all the deducing he was trying to do on what happened earlier.

At about 1am Sherlock heard the door. John shuffled in, dropping his keys on the floor- totally missing his usual valet for his wallet and keys on the shelf. He hung his coat in the hall and then his feet brought him to Sherlocks door.

"John, come in. Are you alright? You left ages ago and I had to talk to myself all afternoon!"

"I walked, Sherlock. I walked and walked and then I realized that I can't walk away from what is in my head. Shit, or my heart. You know I...I don't like talking about things like this. Mainly with you and mainly because I'm terrified" John said while looking mostly at the floor or ceiling.

"Terrified? Of me? John, just- please sit down and tell me what is going on".

Sherlock had already been in bed, and he usually sleeps in the nude. So there he was, gorgeously lit by the soft glow of his table lamp, his eyes trying to adjust from being asleep to awake. And with just the sheet on his bed to cover himself with. Sherlock didn't care about all that. But John did. Sherlock motioned toward the only chair in the room, knowing full well that he asn't going to sit on the bed.

"I uh, I would prefer to stand, Sherlock... Look, since we met, and I know you are no fool because Ive seen you deduce people from a single half-second glance... I know that you knew I was attracted to you. And now, there, Ive admitted it. But you were so damned closed off- you made me think I was embarrassing myself. Then, all I wanted to do was prove my 'straightness' in anyway I could. And, you know, Heaven forgive me but those women were just empty, meaningless bandaids that I attempted to fix my heart with..."

Now he was slowly pacing, using hand gestures to add more feeling to his words, all the while talking to the air, not direcly at Sherlock.

"John, if you could just stop pacing- its hard to concentrate and its giving me a headache after being awoken so. Now please, sit. Continue!"

"Fine, I'll sit- um- oh yeah so then you met 'The Woman' and I was so confused because I thought you were just not interested in sex - at all. You usually get very annoyed when either men or women 'come on' to you. I was genuinely shocked seeing the two of you together and-"

"Stop. Just stop there for a minute. Yes, when we met I could 'read' you very clearly. Yes I left out the deduction about your attraction to me becuse I also deduced you probably didn't even realize you were attracted to me. I wasn't going to 'out' you to yourself! And with The Woman my fascination with her was with her skills and the way she played the 'game'... I knew you'd assume there was more to it- it wasnt hard for me to see the jealousy you felt towards her. She flirted AT me. And that afternoon when I had asked for her phone back because it was a trophy of sorts from the case. Thats all. If I had thought she was 'so important' wouldnt I have it here- in my room? For what you call 'sentimental value'? Its in the desk in the front room with all my other case-related oddities. I was very proud of myself at having cracked her code and Im not embarrassed to admit that."

Sherlock finally took a breath and John relaxed a little in his chair. He felt foolish for assuming, and thinking of the time it cost them.

"Ok... right then, I guess that is cleared up now (cough)".

John couldnt help but let his mind wander over to Sherlock in bed, middle of the night... he wondered how warm the bed was, if he were to slide into bed right now. Just to rest and share the same space and sleep. He realized Sherlock was still talking. It was usually the other way around.

"... and so you see that is why I had to come up with the whole 'suicide' with Mycoft, Molly, etc because if you knew and someone got to you- I was afraid you might be kidnapped or worse, tortured for information... For you and all the world- it had to look real and feel real and to be 'real'. John when I was talking to you on the phone from that rooftop- the only person who heard me cry- was you."

Tears begin to form in his eyes.

"I was crying because I knew I was hurting you irrevocably- and that thought alone almost made me wish I had died".

Now Sherlock was talking with his hands and becoming animated more than usual and John knew that any tiredness Sherlock may have felt from being awoken in the middle of the night was now gone.

"Part of me died, too, ya know. That day. Up until that moment of seeing you 'dead' on the pavement (he pauses) I really had no idea of the gravity of my feelings and how I felt about you... The wind was literally knocked out of me. I didn't grocery shop for 2 weeks Sherlock. Two weeks! Mrs. Hudson did the shopping for me and Lestrade came to make sure I was shaving and bathing for Christsakes! That is how broken I was..."

"John I-"

"NO! No Sherlock. You were gone for two years.Two fuckin years."

John rose from his chair at that statement. So fast that he tippedd the chair over backwards.

"Do you have any idea of the life I didn't have? Breakfast, work,tea, ready made meals, telly, bath, bed, repeat. Every fucking day. And- boom- then Mary comes along. What a set up that must have been because 6mo before you come back from the dead here is this woman version of you... well she hid it bloody well and then I get engaged!?!?!"

"John you act like you falling for Mary is somehow my fault".

"It kind of is Sherlock because if you had been here I wouldn't have had the time for women, seeing as how you always had a knack for driving them away."

"You invited her into your life because she gave you a sense of excitement, danger and a bluntness to her manner- very well disguied in a body and face you found yourself sexually attracted to. You needed comfort and she obviously gave you what you needed".

Sherlock said this last sentence with an edge of jealousy to his voice and broke eye contact with John.

"Yes, Sherlock- 2 years without... a , fuck, comforting touch- is alot to ask from anyone. Besides, even tho everyone assumed you and I were together and we weren't! You never... you never made a move NOT ONCE and-"

"Never made a move?! John! You didn't seem like the type of man who would respond to physical contact from another man without reason. There never seemed a 'right' moment to. God, no matter how much I wanted to if you weren't comfortable in your own sexuality then why would I set myself up for failure and rejection? I thought... I honestly thought it was just this undercurrent felt by us both. When I was away those two years YOU, John, were all I could think about."

He starred at John, forcing him to look back. His eyes softened. His throat was raspier and he sounded as if he might cry, which was very unSherlock. But he was going to finally have his say and get everything out.

" On the run, being tortured all that I...YOU were the only reason I didn't give up. The reason I kept going despite the obstacles.When I came back the first thing I asked Mycroft about was (sigh) was about you. I had two years to come to terms with my feelings for you. Too many cold, dark and lonely nights really let your mind wander...."

"And imagine MY reaction when I came back to find you getting engaged and married to a woman you hardly knew, who had no past, no family... It crushed me John. I had always been fine being alone but you changed all that. So coming home to 'her' really took my inner most security away.I was secure here in the life we had started, you had become part of me. My better half as it happened.  I was alone, again but this time NOT by choice! and certainly not one I would have made after having experienced how complex and wonderful life could be when shared with someone... someone who 'gets' me and yet stays."

John cleared his throat. His eyes rimmed in red from trying to not cry and not always being able to hold it in.

Sherlock still sat in bed but during his expulsion of feelings a crimson blush covered from his torso, up his throat, to his face.

But John couldn't deny that he was moved by Sherlock's words.

The men sat in silence for a few minutes- each wondering how to finish the conversation.

But it was clearly a deep wound festering between the two of them that needed to have the debris cleaned out, sanitized and sutured....


	8. chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its on ;)

Sherlock started to put his bare feet on the floor, wrapping himself up as he often did into his white sheet.

"Tea, Sherlock? I can go put it on. Seems like we'll need it"

John finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, fine. That would be lovely, thanks" Sherlock replied before shuffling down the hall to the living room.

John handed Sherlock his cup and they both settled into their familiar chairs. The fireplace was going as it had hundreds of times before. However, after all of the outpouring of feelings and emotions, there was, for the first time- a feeling of anticipation. A heaviness of words still unsaid that you could cut with a knife.

"Have you heard from Mary recently? Or asked how she's been holding up? Its a shame about everything. It really was a beautiful wedding and I knew you had so many hopes resting on your baby."

"Sherlock, I could give a flying fuck really at this point about Mary and I know that sounds heartless but after everything she-"

and a sob was stuck in his throat so he did his usual breathe in/out thru his nose to try and settle down

" I know she also lost a child. That is something that no one should have to go thru. I mean it when I said two people had changed my life. She was one of those people and she turned out to be a lie... and the other person..."

"Yes, go on John" Sherlock tried not to let his eagerness show by his tone of voice.

"The other person changed my life and I don't know... I don't even know how to even process this" as he gestured around the apartment" and us- mates, roommates, or?"

John's voice trailed to almost a whisper and his lost eyes seemed a thousand miles away but also staring into the fire.

"Us, John?" Sherlock steepled his fingers under his chin.

"Let's be clear about some things, shall we? When I came back from- you know- and we went down into the Tube tunnel- I KNEW how to turn off the bomb. I didn't want you calling the police or bomb squad, and didn't tell you I had, because I knew you wouldn't have shared your feelings if you knew others were on their way."

"I fucking knew it! I knew you weren't that much of an idiot to have us walk into a bomb situation like that with nothing!"

John chuckled slighly and gave a whistful sigh.

"John, when I said I couldn't do it, that I didn't know how... I wasn't talking about the bomb. I was talking about my feelings for you! That I couldn't let you go, I didn't know how to let you go... and then I begged your forgiveness on my knees John"

...and with that he was kneeling between their chairs, causing John to furrow his brow and shift in his chair...

..." when you thought we would die together your last words, possibly ever on this Earth were that you forgave me. Being your Best Man was one of THE most hardest and arduous tasks I have ever attempted. The only reason, well two reasons, that I was able to go thru with it was because I wanted to make you happy, no matter how I felt. And two, because even tho at the altar I couldn't say how I felt, thru my speech and my vows and even my violin piece- I could tell all of our 'friends' that I loved you and cared for you and vowed to always be there for you".

John's eyes welled up with tears. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths before he spoke again. Sherlock was still kneeling at his feet.

"Sherlock I have dreaded this conversation. Dreaded it because you can be so damn insensitive sometimes and because I didn't know what in God's name you would say".

Sherlock sat up taller on his knees. One hand unclenched the sheet. Reaching toward John's hand on the arm of the chair he asked in a low, cracked voice:

" John, can I... may I please touch you?".

John's mouth went dry. His breath hitched when Sherlock's skin made contact. Warmth ontop of warmth. The electrical pulse it caused went straight to John's groin. 

Sherlock had slowly covered his roommate's rough tanned hand with his own pale violinist fingers and then wrapped them around his wrist. He was taking John's pulse. Now he was more certain than ever how to proceed. 

"John, your pulse is elevated. Your pupils are dilated and you haven't withdrawn your hand from under mine... Please, John, can we continue talking in my room? Don't leave me here on my knees. We need to finish this." 

John pushed his chair back to give he and Sherlock room to stand. They made their way to his room- and Sherlock closed the door behind them. The froze where they stood, next to the bed.

"John- in some ways you are just as frightened and weary as you were the day we met. Fresh from battle. But I want to be the one to put you back together. You have saved my life, in so many ways please John I-"

John cut him off with a finger to Sherlock's lips. 

"Sherlock, I don't know if I am ready to hear what I think you are about to say". 

They stood that way for a minute. John's finger fell from Sherlock's lips. 

" I love you John. I love you John Watson first as my friend, and the one person I want to be by my side until my time on this Earth is over. You keep me right. You always have and with everything I have, tho I will sometimes fail, I want to honor you and be true to you and never be apart." 

He picked up John's hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back, a few tears escaped from his eyes and onto the sheet. 

"Sherlock Holmes, when I first met you I thought you were the most brilliant, idiotic, misunderstood human being I have ever known. And I still feel that way... but if I have learned anything over the years with you and more so in your absences- is that I simply cannot live without you. I will never be bored and whether the days are good or bad I am willing to chance it everyday to find out. I love you more than my own life and-"

With that, Sherlock kissed John, full on the mouth. Neither of them moved much. When their eyes opened they each felt the same jolt of eletricity. John took hold of Sherock's sheet after removing Sherlock's hands. As he 'unwrapped' him, John bathed the newly exposed skin with kisses and caresses. When he got to Sherlocks impossibly toned stomach, Sherlock pulled him up. 

He was surprised he was still standing at all. He pulled John's shirt up and over his head. The sheet went down, exposing all of Sherlock. John's jeans and underwear went down to join the other clothes and sheet piled at their feet. They gave eachother a nervous grin. Sherlock brushed his hand across John's face and let his hand trail down into the patch of chest hair and placed a full palm over John's heart. They looked into eachother's eyes followed by a deeper, more urgent kiss.

"Let's get on the bed, shall we?" John suggested in a firm voice, full of lust.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John finish their major talk with their bodies instead of more words.

Sherlock layed out onto the bed, letting John see him. See _all_ of him. This was literally a first for them both.

John looked Sherlock over- from his toes, to his slender thighs, his chisled abs and chest and to his beautiful face.

"You know its almost a sin that someone could have so much beauty and brains. Its a lethal combination."

He was now stroking his cock slowly in his hand, without overthhinking what was happening. Sherlock blushed.

"John, don't be afraid. Its only us. I'm not going to be 'judging' your performance- I. Just. Want. You."

His voice was almost a purr. John's cock twitched in accordance.

"Touch me John, here- please!"

With that he pulled John down and his hand to his half erect cock. His eyes closed at the feeling of John's rough and warm hand surrounding him, after all this time. It was wonderful, but he could tell John started to overthink things.

"John, please, touch me like you touch yourself" he whispered into John's ear.

John moved on the bed to sit behind Sherlock. His thighs wrapped around his hips. His cock poking Sherlock unavoidably in this position. He reached around and began the rythms he knew too well. Sherlock layed his head back on John's shoulder.

"You are so fucking gorgeous like this Sherlock. I could pump your cock all day- and you're loving it" he said as a few trickles of pre-cum seeping from his head. John moved around to lay between Sherlock's legs.

"Ive waited long enough- I want to know what you taste like".

His voice was raspy and full of lust. He began licking the shaft. Up and down and around the head, before taking him totally in his mouth.

"Fuck! John, oh John! MMMM Ive only ever wanted this with you- your mouth is incredible. Don't stop" and he let out a deep moan that ended with a sigh. 

"Wait John I don't want to cum like this, our first time. Come up here" and he pulled John until they were lying face to face, erections twitching against eachother.

"Sherlock I never thought I would say this- but you could fuck my mouth anytime you want with that cock" and he reached out for a handful.

"John, can we- I mean- I want to be inside you. So desperately, but its ok if you say no. We've had a long day of revelations and I understand. I just want to be as close to you as anyone can- I love you most ardently John".

He leaned in teasing John's mouth with his own then they kissed. Their bodies and sensitive erections brushing and rubbing against the other.

"Ok, Sherlock. Yes- I will try with you. I trust you. I'm so hard and I don't know how much longer I can last." Sherlock took out some lube he had in his side table for the rare occassions he masturbated.

"I think we start with fingers and then work towards, ya know... and relaxing I've read is  paramount".

"Looking at your face and hearing you want to fuck me have me in a daze, does that count?"

John gave a most genuine grin. Sherlock knelt by John's legs, bent at the knee. He started with one lubed finger. 

"OH fuck its so warm, its amazing, oh my God" Sherlock said as he insterted. John felt the pressure but knew Sherlock would be gentle and moaned in agreement. Sherlock withdrew to get the second finger ready. John took a deep breath and Sherlock inserted the two digits, opening and closing them again the muscles of John's opening. Sherlock wanted to drool at the sight of his fingers disappearing into John, and the feeling of John and what he was allowing him to do. Sherlock massaged John's cock and licked his thigh as the fingers worked in and out. He withrew the two to finally add one more just to obe sure. He didn't want to hurt John. 

"Sherlock, please I want you inside me- just- fuck- mmmmm please love". 

"John  you are doing so great... I don't want to hurt you so I'm making sure you're ready. You like this John? My three fingers fucking your asshole?" 

He bit John's thigh and gave his cock a little squeeze. It would be fun getting to know all that turns them both on.

"Ok, John. I'm getting the condom. Are you ready? This vision of you writhing beneath me for my cock to be inside you will never leave my mind. You are a vision Dr. Watson". 

He knelt back to put the condom on and lube. Sherlock leaned over John and kissed his mouth sweetly. His cock was teasing John's ass. John started to buck up to get any friction and Sherlock lined them up and gently slid in the head. He rested his forehead on John's. Both men breathing hard. As they both felt John relax, Sherlock pushed in deeper. 

"Ah ah ah ooooo fuck!"

"John is everything alright? Should I stop?!" 

"Sherlock if you stop I swear I will kill you! Just- mmmm- go deeper love. Fuck me for fuck's sake please!!" 

Sherlock went in to the hilt. Both of them let out gasps, and as Sherlock picked up a rythm they both kissed eachother and looked into eachother's eyes- in disbelief they were here in this moment finally. Sherlock's breath began to hitch at the constrictions of John's muscles around him. John was panting and felt his cock seeping between their bodies. 

"Cum for me John, I want to feel you and then fill you with me. Fuck- Ive never seen a face so beautiful as you are right now. Under me, and me inside you." 

With that John palmed himself with a few strokes. Sherlock could feel his muscles tense and release as he came. John swore he saw stars. It was- no words. No words. Sherlock felt him tense and with two more thrusts he came- shouting John's name, over and over like a litany or prayer. They were both sweating now. But John reached Sherlock down for a kiss. This was the most perfect moment either man can remember having. Sherlock pulled out and discarded the condom, getting a towel for he and John to clean up with. 

When he got back into bed, he wasn't sure what as supposed to happen next. Except that he wanted to put what a wonderful man and lover John Watson was on a billboard in Trafalgar Square! 

John excused himself to the bathroom and when he returned Sherlock was asleep. He looked so peaceful and like a statue stolen from the Louvre that ended up in his bed. Perfect specimen physically and John knew emotionally there was more to him than anyone gave him credit for. He didn't know what happened next- as for as them- so he just crawled in the bed and spooned Sherlock. He hoped there would be many more times like these, and he was glad everything was out and he could finally breathe freely without that pain in his chest from always holding back.


End file.
